


A Delicate Balance

by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters)



Series: Anakin and Obi-Wan [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Affectionate Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin misses his Mom, Angst and Feels, Bullying, Comfort, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Discipline, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Friendship, Gen, Grandparent Yoda (Star Wars), Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Hurt/Comfort, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Minor Injuries, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Sexual Spanking, Obi-Wan Kenobi is Trying, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Parental Obi-Wan, Past Abuse, Spanking, figuring it out, lightsaber forms, lightsaber injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27662101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachybitters/pseuds/Peach_Bitters
Summary: As Anakin's skills grow, so too does his penchant for getting into trouble. After a training mishap, Obi-Wan struggles with his role as Anakin's master. Warning: this story contains spanking of a minor. Please read the tags and author's notes.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Yoda
Series: Anakin and Obi-Wan [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1864819
Comments: 11
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is not intended to reflect my real-world views on child rearing or make any kind of statement. Please just take it as a work of fiction.

From Obi-Wan’s point of view the trouble all started when Master Gayle Trehana stopped Obi-Wan near the Temple’s science corridor to marvel to him about a recent, and apparently very impressive, performance his padawan had given in a sparring match the other evening.

“To think he’s only eleven and not even raised in the Temple,” she said, the tendrils on her head vibrating slightly with wonder.

“Was this a sanctioned sparring match, do you know?” Obi-Wan questioned, feeling once again that familiar feeling of exasperation and pride that seemed to come with being Anakin Skywalker’s master. After just a couple years of Jedi Training, the boy was growing leaps and bounds in his skills, even rivaling students years older in certain subjects, and especially in combat arts. 

Anakin’s enthusiasm for the subject had more than doubled since he’d built his own lightsaber just a few months before. It had been difficult to get the boy to focus on anything but lightsaber training lately, and was beginning to enjoy showing off a little too much, in Obi-Wan’s opinion.

Gayle nodded enthusiastically. “Padawan Zeeva was with them. You know how the junior padawans are. A group of them get together and they badger and cajole any adult they can find into supervising their matches.”

Obi-Wan did know. Not so long ago, he’d been one of those padawans sometimes recruited to lend some facade of legitimacy to impromptu Temple sparring clubs. The unspoken code and tradition of the padawans of the Temple was that if you participated in such events in your own youth, you would not refuse to help keep them going when you came of age.

“I’m impressed he’s studying Ataru already,” Gayle said. “He was a little erratic but his aerials were impressive.”

“He’s _not_ studying Ataru,” Obi-Wan said, fully annoyed now. It wasn’t really her fault, but somehow Gayle’s cheerful demeanor made him all the more bothered by the revelation. 

Gayle’s tendrils lay limp and she looked a little startled at the severity of his tone. “Oh.”

They’d been over this, he and Anakin. The boy was to study the first form only. Whether or not his aerials were impressive, not many -if any- students Anakin’s age were given clearance to study or use anything but Shii-Cho until their masters decided they had mastered the foundation. Obi-Wan had not even been given clearance until he was seventeen. 

A lot of padawans saw moving beyond the first form as a sort of rite of passage, a confirmation of a higher status in the Order, and Obi-Wan did understand that not being allowed to move forward could chafe. But anyone in the Temple would agree that an eleven year old had no right to insist on moving forward. Most of Anakin’s agemates were still in the creche!

“We haven’t begun working on using aerials in lightsaber combat,” Obi-Wan sighed.

“Well, if that’s the case, you may want to know that he was not using a training ‘saber,” Gayle said. “In case you haven’t given him clearance to use his own.”

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw briefly at that. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll speak with him.”

He’d been over that with Anakin too. Lightsaber blades needed to be tuned manually to reduce the strength of the blade enough to train with safely, and doing this properly was a skill in itself and took time to learn. Students of Anakin's age were usually required to only use their training ‘sabers for practice, only training with their real weapons when under their masters’ direct supervision. Obi-Wan had made no exception for the boy, and didn’t plan to anytime soon.

Gayle was giving him a sympathetic look now which made him feel embarrassed. He should have known, somehow. Weren’t masters supposed to have a special sense for these things? He wondered what else his apprentice got up to behind his back. What other instructions had he been defying?

“It is a good thing that he feels safe enough here to push boundaries,” Gayle said gently. She was right, but somehow Obi-Wan felt more embarrassed - as if Gayle thought he needed comforting.

“Yes,” he said. “But he will need to learn why those boundaries exist.” 

If this continued, someone was going to get hurt, and needlessly. Obi-Wan bid Gayle goodbye and went to find his apprentice.

* * *

  
  


He met Anakin as he was being released from an afternoon class, and Anakin smiled with unbridled delight upon seeing him. Their paths didn’t usually cross at this time of the day unless they had scheduled time for training, and Anakin had clearly not expected his master to be waiting for him here.

“Master!”

“Anakin-” Obi-Wan began, but the boy continued talking.

“Master Sef was telling us about when there was a dispute between some mining colonies in the Bryx Ring, and a bunch of Zabraks were eaten by these giant worms -”

“You can tell me this unpleasant sounding story later,” Obi-Wan said.

“Okay. But Master Sef said-”

“Anakin, please,” Obi-Wan sighed. Placing his hand on the boy’s back he steered him into a small alcove nearby. “ _Later_.”

Anakin looked at him, his eyes wide. “What, am I in trouble or something?”

_Or something_ , Obi-Wan thought.

“Someone recently commented on an impressive Ataru performance my padawan gave the other day. I thought that was interesting, considering my padawan doesn’t study Ataru. Or does he?”

“Someone tattled on me?” Anakin cried, aghast, then quickly realized the danger of admitting guilt so openly. “I mean, well, no, I’m not studying Ataru. But everyone else was doing it. I just kind of copied them. And I’m good, Master, they all said so.”

He looked at Obi-Wan hopefully, and Obi-Wan did feel a pang of sympathy for his apprentice. And again, that stubborn little bit of pride. The first year at the Temple had been hard for the boy; everything about the Order, everything that his master had grown up with, strange and daunting to him. He’d put on a brave front, but Obi-Wan knew even at the time how hard it had been for him. Younglings whispered as he passed them in the halls and padawans raised their eyebrows. There had been misunderstandings and altercations with other students; some physical. There had been tears and nightmares and sleepless nights. But they’d gotten through it. And now Anakin was catching up to his peers. Anakin was being included. Perhaps even making friends?

“There’s nothing wrong with Shii-Cho,” Obi-Wan said neutrally.

“But you studied Ataru!” Anakin said, trying another angle.

“Not when I was eleven,” Obi-Wan countered.

“But-”

Obi-Wan shook his head and the boy went quiet. It had taken him a long time to realize that as Anakin’s master he was not, in fact, obligated to get into these drawn out debates with him.

“You must trust me that I know what’s best for you in your training.”

“I do, Master. But-”

Obi-Wan cut him off. “Anakin, if you say ‘but’ one more time..” He trailed off, not really having a threat in mind. He just wanted the boy to stop.

“There’s no reason to rush through your lightsaber training. There are other subjects that need your attention as well, remember. You certainly could have done better on your last Galactic history exam.”

“Yes, Master,” Anakin said quietly.

“One more thing, Padawan,” Obi-Wan said, looking forward to getting this conversation over with. “I remember telling you I wanted you using a training ‘saber unless I was with you.”

“Oh...yeah,” Anakin said. “Well, the other padawans were using their regular lightsabers. I just didn’t want to look like a baby.”

“You have nothing to prove to them,” Obi-Wan said firmly. But he understood. Students of the Temple could be hard on one another at times, and Anakin was particularly sensitive to their criticism. Still, this was no excuse for disobedience, especially in matters of safety. “And you will use your training lightsaber unless I tell you otherwise.”

“Yes, Master,” Anakin said, nearly inaudibly. 

Obi-Wan almost laughed at how miserable his apprentice looked and sounded. He wasn’t sure he’d ever met a child in his life that could be as devastated by being told ‘no’ as Anakin.

“Now, shall we go get something to eat?” He asked, guiding the boy out of the alcove into the main hall. He draped his arm casually around Anakin’s shoulder and the boy practically melted against him, wrapping one arm around his waist and squeezing gently. these displays weren’t exactly proper nor were they Jedi-like, especially not in the Temple hallways, and Obi-Wan had surprised himself by inviting it. But there was a brightness in the Force around Anakin now that had not been there a moment ago, and for now he felt no regrets.

* * *

Although the rest of the day went smoothly, Obi-Wan found himself having difficulty concentrating during his late evening Soresu class - so much so that he found himself having to take a moment to sit down against the wall of the dojo and refocus himself on two occasions. Sulah had scored a hit to his shoulder early in their match which was burning fiercely even under his tunic layers. Normally this might have distracted him from his ruminations, but this evening it made him think on them all the more.

Perhaps he should have been more stern with Anakin, at least about the lack of training ‘saber. After all, they had talked about it before, and Anakin had agreed to obey. Obi-Wan wanted to trust his apprentice, but sometimes - like now - it just seemed that more and more that Anakin only wanted to appease him on a surface level and did not take his lessons to heart.

“Troubled?” Sulah asked him as the class was breaking up, the fifteen or so Jedi milling about and exchanging news and small talk.

“Oh...no,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing at his shoulder. He would have to put some bacta on it. “Well, nothing much.”

“Padawan problems?” Sulah smiled. 

Obi-Wan thought of excusing himself, but he’d been trying to break himself of the habit of running away when Anakin came up as a subject of conversation. He’d isolated himself too much from his fellow Jedi the past several months, not knowing how to explain himself and the strange situation of being the caretaker of a troubled little boy from the Outer Rim, a former slave ostensibly too old to train. But he’d found recently that many in the Temple were sympathetic to his situation, and besides, Sulah was an old friend from his padawan days, and though could be overbearing at times had always been kind.

“Just some willfulness concerning his training.”

“Ah,” Sulah said knowingly. “He’s getting to that age. But he is young and should be easy to mold, still. I was fifteen when I was apprenticed, and I thought I knew everything. Gave my master some headaches. You have at least some time before he starts getting truly obnoxious.” He chuckled to himself, then looked at Obi-Wan as if expecting more details.

“He’s been teaching himself Ataru, despite not being cleared,” Obi-Wan said. “And not using his training ‘saber as I asked him.”

Sulah thoughtfully scratched a pointed ear. “Ah. Thinks he’s a grown up Jedi, does he? Getting too big for his boots.”

“Something like that.”

“I had a couple phases of that sort. I have to say, my master snapped me out of them rather quickly with that strap of his.”

“Corporal punishment? How crude.” Doni Kei had invited herself into the conversation. “Surely there are better ways to teach. Besides, as our wisdom says, ‘the fault of the student is the fault of the master’.”

Sulah folded his arms. “Yes, well. I’m not sure how practical that saying is outside the realm of philosophy.” He looked at Obi-Wan. “Don’t you agree?”

Obi-Wan wasn’t really sure why anyone was asking his opinion on the matter. It hadn’t been so long ago that he’d been a padawan himself!

“There certainly must be a delicate balance,” Obi-Wan said, not wanting to get pulled into the middle of a debate, especially one on the training of padawans. The Jedi of the Temple loved debates, but nothing got feathers ruffled so quickly as differing opinions on how best to correct a wayward apprentice. But Obi-Wan knew that when things got tense, one could never go wrong by bringing up _balance_. “Both master and padawan have their responsibilities to one another.”

Neither Sulah nor Doni found they could disagree with this, but Obi-Wan could sense they were tensing up for a real argument.

“I must be going,” he told them. “Anakin has a tendency to stay up far too late if I don’t see that he goes to bed on time.”

Doni smiled fondly. “Still such a youngling, he is.”

“Just a kid,” said Sulah. “Kids do silly things. Don’t worry too much about it.”

Obi-Wan supposed he was right. Yet he still had an important duty to teach his padawan proper behavior and enforce what he’d already been taught when he forgot or disregarded those teachings. Sometimes such reminders needed to be uncomfortable, in one way or another. Even Obi-Wan, who’d tried hard to follow the rules, had felt the sharp sting of his master’s disapproval on more than one occasion. 

Up til now he hadn’t been terribly harsh with the boy. Anakin had come from a place where the rule of life was roughness and cruelty, and children were not exempt from that reality. The children of the Temple may have been brought up strictly, but with kindness and compassion. They knew what was expected of them, and also that they were cherished. Obi-Wan wished Anakin to know such kindness, and to know that he deserved it. Sooner or later, though, he would also have to understand his responsibilities to his Order.

* * *

He found Anakin in his living quarters, sprawled out on the floor with a variety of class materials - books, datapads and sheets of flipsiplast strewn around him.

“Looks like you’ve been hard at work,” Obi-Wan commented as he hung up his robe by the door.

“I finished my homework,” Anakin said, standing and proudly holding out a datapad toward his master. “Will you check it?”

Obi-Wan took the datapad and gave it a cursory glance. Anakin had apparently done several assignments which went on for pages.

“Goodness, you have some demanding teachers this cycle. How much work are they giving you?”

“Well…” Anakin said. “I kind of read ahead and did some extra.”

“I’ll say you did. But why?” 

Anakin shrugged. “Because I can. So I figured why not?”

Obi-Wan thought he could see what was happening. Perhaps the boy thought if he could prove himself academically he might be moved forward in other aspects of training as well. 

“You don’t have anything to prove, Padawan. Training can’t be rushed.”

“But you said I should focus on things other than lightsaber training.”

“Yes, I did, but I just meant your normal studies. It’s different of course if the work truly interests you. But is that the case here?”

Anakin pouted a bit at that. “Can’t you just check it?”

Obi-Wan sighed and scanned the first page, then handed Anakin back the datapad. “There are several spelling errors on the first page alone. I suggest you correct these before handing it in.”

Anakin frowned down at the screen. “Spelling? Who cares?”

“I think it’s time you went to bed, Anakin. Get your things cleaned up.”

Anakin took a few grudging steps toward the mess on the floor and then turned toward his master again. “I worked hard. I did.”

“I don’t doubt it, little one,” Obi-Wan said, not unsympathetic. Even if not coming from exactly the right place, Anakin’s work ethic was commendable. It only wanted some steering in the right direction.

“I was also working on a way to make my lightsaber more safe for training,” Anakin continued. “You know, easier to adjust the blade. I know I can do it.”

At that, Obi-Wan found himself at last beginning to lose patience. Although any Jedi who built a lightsaber was allowed to maintain and adjust it how they wished, Anakin’s attitude about it bordered on defiant. He should have left it alone. 

“Tread carefully, Anakin. Regardless of your adjustments, I’m not changing my mind about what I said. You’re to use your training ‘saber only unless I say otherwise.”

“I know, but it’s not fair-”

“Anakin, no more ‘buts.’ You have already disobeyed me enough lately. Keep it up and I will have to impose consequences, and you will not like them.”

Anakin looked slightly alarmed and regarded his master for a moment. “What consequences? Would you spank me?”

“I might,” Obi-Wan said. He didn’t want to commit to it one way or the other, but Anakin needed to know it was an option.

Anakin dropped his gaze and started moving again toward his class things, packing them up in a tan cloth bag. Obi-Wan watched him, not knowing exactly why he felt so bad now. Was it not normal, and expected, to chasten an uncooperative student, especially one who had been warned already several times? Had he not been fair? As the boy moved past him without comment, Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder, for good measure also sending him a wave of fondness through the Force.

“Goodnight, little one. Try and have some patience, and everything will be all right.”

“I will. Goodnight, Master,” Anakin responded. Not exactly happily, but at least he had stopped fighting. And that was comfort enough, for now.

* * *

A couple weeks passed without much incident. Anakin’s classes seemed to be going well. He continued to ask Obi-Wan to check his homework every night, but did not do more than the assignments given by his teachers, and his work was even fairly free from spelling errors. Obi-Wan felt a little taken aback by these developments, but all the same, glad that he had seemingly made his point.

“You were on your game tonight. Things going better?” Sulah asked at the end of another Soresu class.

“Yes, things seem to have settled,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Well, don’t worry, I’m sure there’s more than enough excitement in your future.”

“I doubt you’re wrong,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin was not a docile child, and even with training was unlikely to develop into one anytime soon. He had made his peace with that knowledge.

He gathered his things and headed out of the training hall, making his way toward the main Temple corridor. His class was one of the last of the day, and this part of the Temple was quiet and still. Except for…

There was a shout and a laugh which echoed off the walls of one of the small salles nearby. The unmistakable clashing of lightsaber blades, then more shouting - the shouting of boys. Obi-Wan headed toward the noise, curious about who was sparring so boisterously at this hour. Through the Force, he already knew.

Anakin was locked in a fierce battle with a boy Obi-Wan recognized as one of his philosophy students - a fourteen year old called Ladon Churuss. Obi-Wan stood in the doorway of the salle, watching as they hurled themselves about the room, obviously reveling the freedom of having the hall to themselves, free of any supervision. If the boys sensed Obi-Wan watching them, they didn’t let on that they did.

He should have stopped it then, but he found himself fascinated watching his padawan fight. Anakin had obviously been watching the Ataru students for some time, probably even practicing the cadences on his own. His footwork was sloppy, but the Force obviously guided his movements, and his strikes were accurate and fluid. It was only when Anakin leapt over Ladon’s head in a spinning jump that Obi-Wan noticed something was wrong. But then it was too late. 

Taking his opponent by surprise, Anakin thrust his blade into Ladon’s shoulder. With a shout of pain and shock, the boy fell backwards onto the hard floor, his own weapon falling from his hand. Obi-Wan rushed forward toward Ladon who sat up, wincing in pain, his hand pressed tightly against his ‘saber wound.

“Let me see,” Obi-Wan said, kneeling down. Ladon removed his hand. A hole had been burned into the boy’s tunics, revealing a nasty wound in Ladon’s shoulder. It was nothing as bad as a wound from a lightsaber blade at full power, but much worse than the minor burns training ‘sabers could give. 

_Oh, Anakin._

“I’ll take you down to the healers’,” Obi-Wan said, helping the boy to his feet.

An expression of dread briefly crossed Ladon’s face. “No, Master Obi-Wan, I’ll be all right. It’s not so bad.”

“I must insist,” Obi-Wan said. He knew of no padawan who wanted to go to the healers’ after getting hurt doing something they weren’t supposed to. He’d been in that position himself, more than once. Perhaps Ladon too was trying to protect Anakin, who was standing looking from one of them to the other with his mouth hanging open

“I’m sorry, Ladon,” he stammered, for once short on words. “Is it bad? I didn’t mean to. I _am_ sorry.”

“I’m okay,” Ladon said, smiling weakly at Anakin. “Good match.”

Anakin grinned, though the smile dissolved when Obi-Wan looked his way. 

“Give me your weapon, Padawan. You’ve lost the right to it for the indefinite future.”

Anakin held his lightsaber hilt out, reluctantly, but knowing he had no other choice. “I’m sorry, I really thought -”

“I don’t really care what you thought,” Obi-Wan snapped. “This kind of thing is why I told you to use your training ‘saber. And neither of you had any business sparring in here unsupervised.” Anakin flushed at the harsh words and Obi-Wan let them sink in for a moment. “Padawan, go to your room and get ready for bed. We’ll discuss this after I’ve dropped Ladon off at the healers’.”

Anakin scurried toward the door on the far side of the salle, leaving a trace of his worry and regret behind him that Obi-Wan could still sense through the Force. But Obi-Wan was too caught up in his own emotions to think much on them. He’d never been so angry with the boy. Irritated yes, but not like this. And he was angry with himself, too. If he’d stepped in when he’d first come across the boys, Ladon wouldn’t have gotten injured.

The architects of the Temple had been thoughtful enough to put the Halls of Healing in close proximity to the training salles, and Obi-Wan’s walk with Ladon was short. It provided enough time, however, for Ladon to beg on Anakin’s behalf.

“I talked him into it, you know. The duel.”

“I’m not sure I believe that. Noble of you to say so, though,” Obi-Wan said.

“I _am_ older though,” Ladon continued, undaunted. “I should be a better influence.”

Obi-Wan smiled, seeing something of himself in the teen. Such an earnest and uncomplicated devotion to honor. The Temple raised them well.

“You’re a good boy,” Obi-Wan told him as they reached the healers’. “But try to show some better sense.”

Ladon agreed that he would and after dropping him off and explaining the situation to the healers, Obi-Wan was on his own again, left to focus solely on what to do with his apprentice. 

Doni Kei had been right, he mused, hurrying through the quiet corridors toward the lifts. _The fault of the student is the fault of the master._

Surely he could have done something to prevent this. Anakin may have been a willful boy, but he was not a stupid one. He could see sense and reason. If anything, Obi-Wan was beginning to doubt his own ability to teach it. If only he-

“Obi-Wan.”

He stopped suddenly. There was Yoda, sitting alone in this empty hall on a bench against the wall as if he’d been waiting for him to pass by.

“Oh, good evening, Master. I didn’t notice you there.”

Yoda chuckled at that. “Lost in your thoughts, you are. Not in the present moment.” He patted the bench beside him. “Sit.”

Abashed, Obi-Wan did as he was told. Yoda was right. He had lost his focus and had gotten himself as worked up as any junior padawan late for a Council meeting.

“Avoiding me, you have been,” said Yoda. Never one for small talk.

“Well...” Obi-Wan began. He didn’t want to admit it, but in some sense it was true. He hadn’t had an intimate chat with his old master in over a year, since taking Anakin as his padawan. Knowing that Yoda had grave objections about that had filled Obi-Wan with more than a little shame. The struggles that came with being Anakin’s master filled him with more. And he hadn’t felt worthy of bringing those struggles to Yoda.

“Missed our talks, I have,” Yoda said, and there was such kindness in his voice that Obi-Wan for a brief moment felt something like a tear start his eyes.

“As have I, Master,” he said quietly.

“Miss Qui-Gon, do you?” Yoda asked the question, but didn’t wait for Obi-Wan to respond. They both knew the answer. “Alone you are not. Other teachers, you have. Many friends here.”

“Of course, Master.”

“Knows this, your padawan does. Spoke to him, I did.”

Obi-Wan looked at him curiously. “You spoke with him.”

“Mm,” Yoda nodded. “Wishes, he does, to become a Knight as quickly as possible. Asked my advice on how to achieve this.”

Obi-Wan leaned back against the wall. “Not surprising I suppose. I’m sorry he troubled you about that, Master -”

Yoda held up his claw. “No need to apologize. But work with him you must. Strong attachments to his mother, he still has. To become a Jedi he wishes, I fear, in order to be with her. Save her.”

Obi-Wan nodded sadly. He knew this as well as Yoda, though he hadn’t thought about it in some time. Anakin had stopped talking about his mother so often after his first few months in the Temple. But he knew he remained troubled by her absence and her distance. And Obi-Wan had no idea on how to untangle that web of longing that gripped his padawan so tightly.

Yoda went on. “Admires you very much, young Skywalker does. A strong bond you have already, hmm?”

“I suppose so, Master,” Obi-Wan said hesitantly, wondering if Yoda was trying to expose him. He sometimes wondered if he cared for the boy too much, indulged him more than he should have. 

“A fine team, you and he will make, one day. Alike you are, more than you think.” Yoda’s statement held a note of finality.

Did Yoda really think so? Obi-Wan tried not to look too pleased. “If he will ever learn to listen to me.”

At that, Yoda was silent.

“He has disobeyed me, Master. He didn’t use his training ‘saber as I asked, and he ended up injuring someone. I fear I haven’t done a very good job impressing the importance of obedience on him.”

Yoda looked at him, a little stern, but more than a little amused. “Then impress it on him now, you must, Master Obi-Wan.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Remember, I do, another youngling who was reckless with his lightsaber.”

Obi-Wan had to smile at that, a bit sheepishly. He’d certainly made his share of bad decisions as a youngling. In some ways, hadn’t been so different from his apprentice. Eager to learn, eager to prove himself. Not always so eager to think things through. He hadn’t been much younger than Anakin the time he’d thrown his own training ‘saber off one of the Temple’s training balconies on a dare, believing he could call it back to his hand. Explaining that to his masters had been one of the more unenjoyable moments of his life (and there had been quite a few). He just hoped his padawan never found out about it.

“Go now. Late, it is. Talk again soon, we will. Agreed?”

Obi-Wan got up, giving his old teacher a slight bow. “Yes, we will. Thank you, Master.”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Anakin hurried into his room, relieved that he had made it there without bursting into tears. He still couldn't’ believe Obi-Wan had managed to walk into the salle just in time to see what he’d done to Ladon. It was one thing to have someone tell on you when you broke the rules, it was totally different to be caught in the act by your own master. If only he’d remembered that Obi-Wan had his own lightsaber class that evening! Anakin didn’t think he’d ever felt his master so angry with him before. Obi-Wan was a Jedi. Obi-Wan didn’t _get_ angry _._

The sparring session had started out innocently enough. It hadn’t even _started_ as a sparring session. Ladon had found Anakin practicing Form 1 cadences by himself in the empty salle and had offered to give him some pointers. Anakin knew Ladon from the impromptu sparring sessions that had gotten him in trouble before, and had eagerly agreed, pleased that being barred from Ataru didn’t mean being shunned by the other students. 

Ladon was an eager teacher and had been duly impressed by how quickly Anakin picked up on things. Somehow along the way, his pointers had morphed into Form IV instruction, then that had turned into full-on sparring. Anakin hadn’t even thought about the fact that he didn’t have his training ‘saber with him. At least, not until his blade had pierced into Ladon’s shoulder.

All Anakin wanted to do was throw himself on his bed and cry, but the last thing he wanted was his master to walk in and catch him bawling like a baby. He settled for kicking a piece of scrap metal across the room. It didn’t help. In fact, it just made him feel worse. He took a deep breath, calming himself as Obi-Wan had shown him to do so long ago, and managed to regain a little composure.

He stood for a moment, taking on the state of his room. It had been a while since he cleaned it, and he could barely see the floor in some spots, littered as it was with holobooks, a few articles of clothing and various mechanical components and tools. Obi-Wan would not approve. Anakin supposed he had stacked up enough transgressions for the day, and did not need to add a messy room to the list. Glumly, he got to work picking up most of the mess. 

Since he’d begun Jedi training, he hadn’t yet gotten into any _real_ trouble. Sure, he hadn’t been perfect, but consequences up to now had been mostly in the form of lectures and meditations and writing assignments. There was no way he’d get off so light this time. He wondered if Obi-Wan really would spank him. In a way, he felt surprised it had taken this long. Kids where he came from got hit for much less than some of the things he’d done at the Temple. His mom had been more kind and fair than some of the other kids’ parents and the slave owners of course, but even she…

 _No._ He wouldn’t think about her right now. He had to keep focused.

Realizing that the cleaning was taking too long, Anakin opened the drawers of his work bench and tried to shove a few remaining odds and ends into them, but he was quickly running out of room. Desperate, he pushed the last of the larger items under his bed. It would have to do.

Remembering that Obi-Wan had told him to get ready for bed, he quickly put on his sleeping clothes and was just finishing up folding his day clothes when the door to his room opened. Anakin fidgeted with the hem of his sleep shirt as Obi-Wan entered and closed the door behind him. He wondered what the protocol was, here. Should he bow? Obi-Wan didn’t usually demand such formalities of him, but then, he looked pretty mad.

But _was_ he mad? Anakin realized he couldn’t really tell for certain. The place in the Force where he could normally feel Obi-Wan’s emotions was a blank wall of nothing. _Shields_. He gave his master a forlorn look. Usually Obi-Wan didn’t shield from him. At least, not completely.

He reached out into the Force and gently nudged the _wall_. Just to see.

Obi-Wan crossed his arms and frowned down at him. He shook his head. “It isn’t time to discuss my feelings, Padawan. We need to focus on your behavior and your continued defiance of my instructions.”

Anakin started fidgeting with his sleeve now. “Sorry, Master.”

That wouldn’t be good enough by a longshot. But he didn’t know what else to say.

“Have you thought about how you might have injured Ladon much worse with your blade?” Obi-Wan asked, ignoring the apology. “It was strong enough it might have pierced an organ.”

Anakin hadn’t thought about that. He supposed Obi-Wan was right. His modifications weren’t as good as he’d thought, and he hadn’t spent enough time tuning the blade before practicing tonight. But then, he’d not been expecting to spar. It had just happened.

“Is he okay?” Anakin asked feebly.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. But our healers certainly are busy enough these days without needing the extra work brought on by that kind of irresponsibility. Whatever were you thinking?”

Anakin didn’t say anything. He knew he didn’t have any excuses his master would accept.

Obi-Wan sighed and removed his robe, tossing it lightly onto Anakin’s bed and sitting down beside it. “I really was hoping we wouldn’t have to have this conversation,” he said.

Anakin remained silent. He very much wished they weren’t having this conversation now.

“Do you have anything you’d like to say for yourself?” Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin shook his head. There was a heavy weight on his chest. “No, Master.”

“Will you come closer to me?” Obi-Wan asked. 

He sounded slightly more gentle now. Just gentle enough that Anakin did not mind walking over to him. He forced himself to make eye contact but it was hard. Maybe it was better that Obi-Wan was shielding. He didn’t have to feel his disappointment. But he didn’t need the Force to tell him that Obi-Wan was disappointed in him. He bit his lip as a couple of traitorous tears welled up out of his eyes, and he angrily wiped his sleeve across his face.

“Why are you crying?” Obi-Wan asked him mildly.

“I’m not!”

“Are you sure about that?” He didn’t wait for Anakin to answer. “I’m not going to throw you into a Sarlaac pit, you know.”

“You’re going to spank me,” Anakin said, scrubbing at his face some more. 

Obi-Wan studied him for a moment, and briefly Anakin thought he might tell him that he was wrong and that he was not going to spank him. But then he said, “well, I do think you’ve earned it. Don’t you?”

Anakin bit his lip again, harder, forcing the tears back down. He hoped that wasn’t really a question Obi-Wan expected him to answer. The answer he wanted to give was a lie, and Obi-Wan would know.

“You will also be doing some extra meditations for a while, and I think you should spend some time helping the healers in the infirmary. But we can talk about that tomorrow.”

Anakin nodded, dropping his gaze to his sock-clad feet.

“Are you frightened?” Obi-Wan asked.

“No!” Anakin said fiercely. That was mostly true.

“Then I think it’s time we got on with it,” Obi-Wan said, straightening and scooting back a bit on the bed. “Come over my lap.”

Anakin allowed himself a small groan, but did not stall. There was no getting out of this, and obviously Obi-Wan expected him to be brave about it, like he expected him to be brave about anything else. Anakin expected the same of himself. He climbed onto the bed and lay face down over his master’s lap, burying his head in his arms.

“You’ve been punished like this by your mother?” Obi-Wan asked, resting his hand on Anakin’s back.

Anakin thought it was unfair of his master to bring up his mother now, when he’d been trying so hard not to think about her. He wished he hadn’t told Obi-Wan so much about her when he’d first come to the Temple. 

“Sometimes. Not very much.”

“I hope it will be the same with us,” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin swallowed the lump in his throat, not wanting to consider what his mother would think about what he’d done, if she knew. No doubt she would think he deserved this.

 _Oh, Ani_ she would say. Disappointed.

A hard, stinging swat brought his mind back to his present situation.

“I know we haven’t done this before, but I’m going to do my best to see to it that we will not have to repeat this lesson anytime soon,” Obi-Wan said. He brought his hand down again and Anakin flinched.

He hadn’t exactly expected his master to tap him, but this stung more than he’d expected. Perhaps it had just been so long since anyone had laid a hand on him in this way. Maybe because it was Obi-Wan doing it and because it hurt more when it was someone you loved. 

Watto had used to fly at him sometimes in a rage, cursing and slapping furiously at his head and face. Anakin hadn’t often even known what he’d done to merit those punishments. Probably nothing, most of the time. He’d learned to take such beatings patiently, just waiting for them to end - they’d made him angry, so angry, but he couldn’t remember if they’d really hurt. Watto at least had always tired himself out fairly quickly. Anakin had been luckier than some slaves in that respect.

“Please explain to me why you’re here,” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin suppressed a groan, but felt grateful at least that Obi-Wan hadn’t smacked him again. His bottom was still stinging slightly from the first two.

“I hurt Ladon with my lightsaber.”

“That is incorrect,” Obi-Wan said. “Ladon's getting hurt was a consequence. Try again.”

“I disobeyed you and didn’t use my training ‘saber,” Anakin said after a moment.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. He gave Anakin a swat. “And what else?”

Anakin winced. “I...wasn’t supposed to be doing Ataru.” He braced himself for another swat, and it came as expected.

“Yes, I gave you very specific instructions about that. What else?”

 _There was more?_

“I don’t know.” He didn’t like all these questions. Why couldn’t Obi-Wan just spank him and end his ordeal?

“Have you forgotten already? Junior padawans are forbidden from sparring without oversight?” Obi-Wan said, sounding stern.

“Oh…” Anakin wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He had definitely forgotten.

“We will work on your understanding of the rules, but for now let’s get this over with,” Obi-Wan said, a slight sigh in his voice.

He really started the spanking then, and it only took a few more until the sting became a burn and Anakin was kicking and straining against the hand holding him down.

“If you can’t settle down I’ll pin your legs,” Obi-Wan warned him.

Anakin huffed at that, knowing that the tears he had been working so hard to fend off since they started were getting dangerously close to overwhelming him, and moving around was the only thing keeping them at bay. But if he got his legs pinned he would cry for certain, so he stopped moving and tried his best. It was so unfair - not getting punished, exactly, but that he was being reduced to tears like this. Wasn’t Obi-Wan always telling him to get control of his emotions? And now he was putting him a position where he just couldn’t help it.

“You can expect a repeat of this if you disobey me again,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin lost what little composure he was hanging onto. Frustrated, he grabbed Obi-Wan’s robe that was still laying beside him on the bed and buried his face in it, sobbing as quietly as he could. It took him a moment to realize that the spanking had stopped. It was hard to stop crying, but Anakin didn’t care anymore, and neither did he care that he was getting his tears and snot all over the sleeve of his master’s robe. 

Obi-Wan didn’t seem to mind, though. He didn’t say anything, just rubbed Anakin’s back slowly until Anakin stopped crying. Anakin gave his face one last wipe with the robe sleeve and pushed it aside.

“You can get up when you’re ready, my little padawan,” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin rubbed at his eye, now feeling so exhausted that he thought he might fall asleep right there. Slowly, he pushed himself up into a seated position, sniffling as he crossed his arms tightly over his chest, torn between wanting to rub his bottom and show his master how composed he could be.

Obi-Wan rested a warm hand gently on his back. “You know I care very much for you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Anakin said quietly. To his dismay, a fresh, hot wave of tears had started welling up inside him, tired and spent as he was.

“I want to see to it that you’re trained properly,” Obi-Wan said. “If I can’t trust you to obey me, training falls apart very quickly. Do you understand?”

Anakin wanted to say that he did, but all he could do was sniffle. 

Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer. “I think you do.”

Surprised by the hug, Anakin stopped sniffling. He hadn’t expected his master to cuddle him, since he’d behaved so badly and gotten in trouble. But then..Mom had always hugged him after she’d gotten mad at him.

 _Mom_ … He wondered what she was doing now. 

Anakin couldn’t hold it back any longer and surrendered to his tears again, sobbing into his master’s chest, any pretense of Jedi composure forgotten. Obi-Wan stroked the back of his head.

“Goodness,” he said. “It’s not as bad as all that, is it?”

Anakin couldn’t tell him about Mom, not about the way he came apart when he remembered her touch and her gentle smile.

“I’m s-sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“Crying too much.” He had begun to settle down. Obi-Wan’s voice was soothing. He reached out through the Force, relieved that Obi-Wan’s shields had come down partway. And Anakin could sense no anger behind those shields, just a deep, still sea of calm. And the little bit of sadness that was always there.

“What a strange thing to apologize for,” Obi-Wan said, giving him a squeeze. In the Force there was a spark of surprise and humor.

Anakin wasn’t sure. He didn’t think that a good Jedi would cry so much. But if Obi-Wan wasn’t upset about it he wasn’t going to argue. 

He settled against Obi-Wan’s chest, feeling very sleepy now. “I’m sorry that I disobeyed you.”

“You took your correction well,” Obi-Wan told him. “But now you must start the harder work of improving yourself.”

“Yeah...but I can’t wait til I’m a Knight and I can do what I want,” Anakin sighed.

Obi-Wan laughed out loud at that. “Do you think I can do whatever I want? You have so much to learn, little one.”

“Mm,” Anakin said by way of answer, doing his best to fight the sleep threatening to consume him.

“Are you so eager to be rid of your awful, strict master?” Obi-Wan asked quietly, stroking Anakin’s hair.

Anakin shook his head. “No, no. We’ll be Jedi Masters together. We’ll go on adventures. I dreamed about it.”

“I have no doubt you’ll make a great Jedi someday,” Obi-Wan said. "But remember, a great Jedi is a patient one.”

“I try, Master,” Anakin said through a yawn.

Speaking of dreams,” Obi-Wan said. “It really is time you go to bed. I’ve kept you up shamefully late.”

Anakin found himself being pushed up gently, and then helped up to a standing position. Obi-Wan pulled the blankets of his bed back and Anakin got in, smiling at the absurdity of being tucked in. He’d been seven when he’d started to refuse being tucked in by his mom, and no one had done it for him since. But he found he didn’t mind it so much right now.

Obi-Wan reached down and stroked his face gently. “Goodnight, Padawan.”

“‘Night, Master,” Anakin whispered. His eyes fell shut as Obi-Wan left the room, not to open again til the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just felt this story needed a little more closure, so I added another chapter. It's really done for real now, though. :B

Anakin looked up from his homework to steal a glance at Obi-Wan, who’d been quietly reading at his console for the past hour. They’d been sitting in companionable silence, both occupied with their respective tasks. Anakin knew his master didn’t especially appreciate interruptions, but he was almost done with his own work and he just needed to make sure of something.

“Master - I don’t have to help at the infirmary today. You said three days, right?”

“Hm? Oh, yes,” Obi-Wan answered, still distracted by the holo projection of words in front of him.

Smiling, Anakin stood up and walked to Obi-Wan’s chair.

“Does that mean…” he trailed off, not wanting to ask and hoping Obi-Wan would understand what he meant. But Obi-Wan still wasn’t looking at him.

“What is it, Anakin? Please say what you mean.”

“Do I get my lightsaber back?” Anakin asked, and held his breath.

Obi-Wan did turn to look at him now. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Anakin exhaled. This was the answer he’d feared. He felt like shouting in frustration, but that would surely not convince Obi-Wan to give him back his weapon. He chose his words carefully. “I..I promise I learned my lesson. I’ll be better.”

“I’m glad, Anakin, but I can’t give it back to you lightly. You dishonored it.”

“But-”

Obi-Wan gave him a sharp, quelling look. He’d been pretty grumpy about that word lately, come to think about it. Anakin fell quiet, fixing his master with a pleading gaze.

“I need to get these reports to the Council,” Obi-Wan said. “We can talk about it later. For now, please go and occupy yourself somehow.” He turned back toward his work.

“I’ve been punished enough,” Anakin muttered, not moving.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Obi-Wan said. “I am not going to ask you again - please find something to do, or you can have another day of work in the infirmary.”

Anakin stood in place pouting for as long as he dared, before turning and stomping out of the apartment. It wasn’t fair. He didn't care what Obi-Wan said - he still thought he’d been punished enough, and besides, he  _ was _ sorry. What more did Obi-Wan want from him?

But it wasn’t long before the realization of his sudden freedom dawned on him. He hadn’t had any real recreation time in a few days, since he’d gotten in trouble. He’d been so busy with extra meditations and infirmary work Obi-Wan had assigned him as punishment for the sparring incident, plus his regular classwork of course.

He decided to head down to the flying simulators, hoping that there wouldn’t be a wait. Often students came in waves as they prepared for various piloting exams. A few, like him, used the pods for recreation, but you weren't supposed to take too long. Anakin sometimes stayed for hours, if no one noticed.

Since he had some time he passed by the training halls to see if there were any interesting matches going on. But before he could see, he heard a voice behind him call his name.

Ladon was coming toward him, grinning.

“Is your shoulder better?” Anakin asked. He was surprised to see the other boy here so soon.

“Almost healed,” Ladon said. Anakin saw his eyes move to his waist, to the place on his belt where his lightsaber usually hung. He winced in sympathy. “You know when you’ll get it back?”

Anakin shook his head. It stung that Ladon had noticed. It reminded him that other Jedi probably did as well, and knew that Anakin was in disgrace. He felt suddenly naked.

“Did you get in trouble?” Anakin asked, eager to get the attention off of himself.

Ladon gave a short laugh. “Not really. My master was cross at first but when she took a look at that hole you put in my shoulder I think she just felt sorry for me.”

“Bet it’ll teach you not to spar with Skywaker again,” came a voice from behind them. Vasti Sarathi and a few of his friends had emerged from one of the salles. “Unless you like an element of danger.” He looked at Anakin with an unpleasant smile. “It’s hard to believe that  _ you _ of all people don’t know how to tune down your blade properly.”

Anakin clenched his fists by his sides, glaring at the older boy. Vasti had always given him trouble. He liked winding him up, seeing how far he could push him. Somehow, he always seemed to know the exact things to get Anakin almost as angry as he could get.

“It was an accident,” Ladon said evenly. “He’s still little, you know. Give him a break.”

_ Little _ ? Anakin whipped his head around to stare at Ladon. It had been an accident, yes, but not because Anakin was  _ little.  _ Was that really what Ladon had thought of him?

“You’re right about that. He was too little to be taken as a padawan,” Vasti snorted. “He belongs in the creche.”

“The creche wouldn’t take him,” sniggered Vasti’s friend Balt. “Too old and wild.”

“Well, Master Kenobi seems fine with playing crechemaster for him,” Vasti said. “I bet he  _ loves _ that.”

Anakin heard the blood rushing in his ears. It had been a long time since he’d wanted to fight a fellow apprentice, but now all he could think of doing was grabbing Vasti and bashing his head into the hard floor. 

“I hate you,” Anakin heard himself say. Vasti’s grin widened. Anakin felt his composure hanging on by a thread. He was a Jedi now, not a slave. Jedi didn’t fight each other. But he was afraid if Vasti said one more cruel word he wouldn’t be able to hold it back anymore.

But Vasti didn’t have a chance to say anything. Before even he could react, Ladon dashed forward and swung his fist smartly into the other boy’s ear. Vasti staggered back, dazed and shocked. Anakin gaped openly, his anger forgotten.

Vasti put his hand to his ear and looked at Ladon as if planning his next move.

“Let’s go,” Balt said quietly. “It’s not worth a fight.”

Vasti nodded slowly, fixing Ladon with an icy stare.

“You...hit him,” Anakin said to Ladon as he watched the boys move down the hall.

Ladon shook out his hand. “Yes. I suppose I shouldn’t have. Better me than you, though. I don’t have the reputation you do.” He smiled at Anakin, a bit ruefully. “He wanted you to try and hit him, you know. You shouldn’t let them get you so worked up.”

“I know,” sighed Anakin. Ladon sounded a lot like Obi-Wan. He was a little miffed that Ladon seemed to think he needed protecting, that he couldn’t handle himself or his feelings. But he decided he’d try and put the incident behind him. “Want to go down to the flying sims with me?” He asked. He’d only ever gone alone, but it occurred to him that it might be fun to have a friend with him.

Ladon shook his head. “Sorry, I can’t. I have to go to the Archives and do some research for my master.”

“Okay. Maybe another time,” Anakin said, trying to hide his disappointment.

“See you around,” Ladon said.

“Yeah.”

* * *

It was early afternoon when Obi-Wan finished compiling his reports for the Council and decided to take a few minutes to himself to go walk in the gardens. Earlier, when he’d been trying to work, he hadn’t given much thought to how his apprentice might spend his time, but now he wondered where Anakin had gotten off to. He’d found it was usually not a good idea to give the boy too much unstructured time - trouble seemed to find him very quickly.

_ I have to learn to trust him. And he has to learn to manage himself well. I’m not a crechemaster,  _ Obi-Wan thought.

At least Anakin had taken his recent discipline better than he’d expected - to his relief. He certainly hoped that it meant they wouldn’t have to repeat it anytime soon, though he wasn’t naive enough to believe Anakin wouldn't continue to test the limits (and his master’s patience). 

His hand went to the lightsaber hilt hanging on his right side - Anakin’s. He’d been carrying it on his belt for a few days now, but rather than feeling familiar it was starting to feel strange and heavy. Like it didn’t want to be with him. 

_ Maybe it’s a sign,  _ he thought.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard Anakin’s name uttered by a child sitting with a small group beside a nearby reflection pond.

“Did you hear how he hit Vasti?” The girl said. “Just a couple hours ago.”

The children murmured with shock, not bothering to hide a wicked glee.

“Vasti has a big mouth,” said another. “He probably deserved it.”

The younglings began to chatter louder and giggle a bit at the juicy news. Obi-Wan walked quickly down the path to find a quieter place to think.

_ Oh Anakin... _

He certainly couldn’t give him back his lightsaber now or anytime soon - not with this behavior. Couldn't the boy make it through the whole week without getting into trouble? They’d talked about fighting, and more than once. Anakin should know better by now. What was it going to take for him to calm down? Boys like Vasti could be unkind and a pain to deal with, but they could also teach one patience in their crude way. He’d tried to explain this to Anakin, apparently to no avail.

He reached for his commlink and linked to Anakin. It took nearly a half a minute before the boy picked up.

_ Probably feeling guilty _ , Obi-Wan thought.  _ Well, he should _ .

“Master?” Came Anakin’s voice through the connection.

“Anakin, we need to talk. Get yourself up to my quarters right now. I’ll meet you there soon.”

There was a silence on the other end.

“Did you hear me?” Obi-Wan asked, more sternly. 

“Yes, Master,” came the reluctant reply.

“Good.” Obi-Wan closed the connection.

* * *

When Anakin entered Obi-Wan’s quarters, they were dark and empty, the blinds drawn over the large windows. Anakin went over to them and opened the blinds up all the way. He didn’t know why Obi-Wan loved keeping them so shut when he could look out over the towers of Coruscant and all the ships and vehicles moving by. Besides, the room seemed so much more cheerful when it was full of light. Anakin needed it to feel cheerful right now. 

He sat down on one of Obi-Wan’s meditation seats and tried to meditate, mulling over why his master might have sounded so grouchy with him over the commlink. He hadn’t done anything - had he? The worst thing he’d done was tell Vasti he hated him. It had not been a very Jedi-like thing to say, but was it bad enough to get in trouble for?

The door opened and Anakin looked up to see a very serious Obi-Wan enter, and he wasted no time in getting to the point.

“Anakin, did you get into a fight this afternoon?” He said, coming to stand over the boy.

Anakin bit his lip, contemplating how to answer. “Well...sort of I guess.”

“Well, did you or didn’t you?” Obi-Wan snapped.

“I didn’t start it, though.”

Obi-Wan rubbed at his temple the way he always did when trying to compose himself. When Anakin was testing him. “Have we not been over this? Anakin, sooner or later the Council is going to take note of you attacking other students and -”

“I didn’t attack anyone!” Anakin exclaimed, hurt. Why did Obi-Wan think that? “What are you talking about, Master? Who told you that?”

Obi-Wan looked startled at the outburst, then began to understand. “You didn’t hit Vasti. But someone did?”

Anakin nodded.

“Who?”

Anakin looked away, hesitant. He might have been a lot of things, but he wasn’t a snitch. Ladon didn’t deserve it, after he’d been so kind.

“All right. You don’t have to tell me.” Obi-Wan sighed, coming to sit on the seat opposite his apprentice. “It was very wrong for me to assume like I did. Very foolish. I am sorry.”

Anakin didn’t look at him. A part of him wanted to stay hurt, angry. Let Obi-Wan be the one to feel chastised, for once. He deserved it.

It was Obi-Wan’s hand on his knee that finally made him look up.

“I’m afraid you have a master who is still very much figuring things out. And who makes mistakes, sometimes.”

Anakin shrugged, softening. “Well, you don’t make  _ too _ many mistakes. And I wouldn’t want anyone else for a master.” He thought for a moment. “But I do wish I could have my lightsaber back.”

Obi-Wan smiled, and to Anakin delight, took the weapon off his belt and handed it out toward him. “Yes. I do believe it wants to return to you as well.”

“Thank you, Master.” Anakin took the hilt as if receiving a precious gift, and clipped it back to his belt in its rightful place. He felt suddenly a million times better.

“You’re welcome, little one.”

“Master...I’m really not all that little, am I?” Anakin asked, feeling emboldened now.

“You won’t be for much longer, that’s for certain,” Obi-Wan said.

“But I’m not too little to be a padawan?”

Obi-Wan looked thoughtful for a moment. “No, my little padawan,” he said. “Everything is as it should be.”

For the moment, Anakin felt that he was right.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you made it to the end, thanks for reading! Kudos/comments appreciated. I've been on a bit of a hurt/comfort rampage lately and am open to ideas and suggestions for fics. :)


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